


what's on the menu?

by moonprism (orphan_account)



Series: Mom, Come Get Me [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - College/University, Banter, Bickering, College, Eating, Food, Friendship, Gen, Lots of eye rolling and secret smiles, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-14 05:06:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/moonprism
Summary: Our favorite group of young college students learn to adjust to life without Mom making dinner. Or at least in the only unfortunate ways they can.





	what's on the menu?

**Author's Note:**

> • this fic is really so boring, but i really wanted to write it haha ;;   
>  • chenle and jisung arent here bc i'm not too confident with writing them yet and i really couldnt force college age personas onto them. haha sorry ;; i'll try to write a chensung to make up for it TT_TT   
>  • even though this is a college fic, i still wrote it mild because we're dealing with the dream members here! if this was hyung line, it would be a complete disgusting, irreverent, immoral disaster with everything bad that i love. but i wouldnt do that to younger boys, so here's whatever this is. despite that though, this fic is still somewhat my humor and i did include a couple things that are mature (stupid boy bullshit and mark taking too much over the counter sinus medication). if that's weird to you, don't read it! nothing sexualizing or violent.   
>  • i really enjoy writing donghyuck so he's the most recurring chara in this. i like writing his relationships and interactions with the others a lot.   
>  • this fic isnt platonic if you dont want it to be. it can be whatever you want if you see it. i sure dont care. i made it as ambiguous as possible but still intimate enough for the reader to see whatever pairings they liked personally? some close relationships are obvious. this could even be viewed as a poly fic from multiple angles if you want. whatever your little heart desires.
> 
>  
> 
> this fic is **Not Rated** because it doesn't fall under the G, Teen, or Mature categories. it feels extremely ambiguous to me, but this fic is definitely not meant for immature/young readers. there's no sex or violence, so Mature wasn't fitting to choose. even though donghyuck has the mouth of a sailor and mark does something questionable with sinus meds, does that warrant a Mature rating? i'm not sure. so i chose Not Rated.
> 
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> I DIDN'T EDIT THIS BC IM TIRED  
> *edit: i went back and fixed some stuff (not everything its 1:30 am)

**Donghyuck**

Donghyuck knows what he’s doing, okay? Even if Mark says he doesn’t. Mark doesn’t know shit anyway. What exactly does Mark know? How to fucking bitch about everything. That’s what Donghyuck thinks.

“Dude, you can’t just live off gas station pulled pork sandwiches and a Vanilla Coke everyday until you graduate,” Mark says like he’s Donghyuck’s dad or something. And it’s not _everyday_.

Mark and Donghyuck are standing at the checkout counter in the center of the Nice gas station on the _Shitty end_ of the university. Donghyuck doesn’t get it. How the university is situated in this weird divide. One side is the good samaritan neighborhood side where there are trash cans specifically to put your dog’s shit in, and the other half is this piece of shit, poorly taken care of corner where Donghyuck could probably buy cocaine at a discount from the white dude who sits in a mint green lawn chair near the adjacent Arby’s dumpster on weekends. This gas station is the closest to Donghyuck and Mark’s dorm, so this is always First Choice. And it’s huge. And, like, weirdly beautiful and kitschy on the inside. Beautiful for a gas station. But the floor is still somehow sticky regardless of the time or day, and Donghyuck just doesn’t understand. It’s so updated and fancy--with a state of the Goddamn art milkshake machine, and expensive health freak food is stocked here like it’s a Whole Foods’ half brother or something.

Cher’s “If I Could Turn Back Time” plays on the store speaker. Donghyuck only knows it because his mom likes this song.

“Listen, Mark. I can do what I want,” Donghyuck explains to his roommate as he sets his Vanilla Coke and pulled pork sandwich onto the counter for the girl to ring him up, Mark standing behind him. The sandwich is hot, wrapped in foil with _bbq pork_ written in permanent marker on some kind of tape across it. The cashier hands Donghyuck his six cents in change, and he grabs the sandwich with his right hand, neck of the Coke bottle pinched between his pointer and middle fingers uncomfortably.

“The caf is closer!” Mark practically shouts to Donghyuck’s back as they leave through the _automated_ glass doors, throwing his hands up dramatically. Donghyuck doesn’t know why Mark is here with him if he’s just going to complain about what he’s eating. Renjun should have just come with him. Renjun doesn’t give Donghyuck shit over everything. But Renjun was busy or something. What a liar. Who studies on a Saturday night? Not Donghyuck, that’s for sure. 

Donghyuck would have gone alone, but “it’s not safe to come alone at night” according to Mister Man Mark over here. Is Mark going to punch someone out for Donghyuck? That’d be a sight to see. Mark and Weird Crack Dealer Show Down in the Arby’s Back Parking Lot. Tickets going on sale now for three dollars.

“I’m not eating caf food, Mark. I’m just not.” The cafeteria has too many people, and they don’t let you take food out the building anymore. Uh, does the school think Donghyuck knows how to (and has the money to) grocery shop and keep stocked food in his dorm? Well, they’re fucking wrong, then. And the dorm commons’ food is _so expensive_. Screw it, seriously. 

“You have a meal plan. _Use_ it!” Mark yells at him, still walking behind Donghyuck on the sidewalk. Probably because yelling next to Donghyuck would just piss Donghyuck off, and Mark is a wimp. The sidewalk on this side of the road is especially disgusting, black petrified gum and dangerous cracks from the oak trees’ roots breaking them apart illuminated in the white glow of streetlights. Mark trips on a particularly violent one. 

“I do use it!”

“The library’s Starbucks doesn’t count!”

“Then why do they let you use your meal plan money there?!” Now Donghyuck is just arguing for the sake of arguing. 

“I’m only worried about you, man. You’re gonna die like this.” Mark takes Donghyuck’s Coke from him.

“Maybe so,” Donghyuck responds as he unwraps the hot foil carefully. “You want the other half?” he asks, holding out the half revealed sandwich to Mark. Donghyuck has slowed down and matched Mark’s pace, walking steadily side by side. 

“What? Dude, no. The bun is always hard.”

“Always, huh?” Donghyuck peers at him with smug, squinted eyes. “You eat ‘em enough to have an ‘always’?” 

“I can’t stand you.”

Donghyuck grins.  
  
  
  


**Renjun**

Renjun does think, sometimes, that he may come to Fuji San too much. It’s this little white wooden building in this dirty corner of the street on the edges of midtown, where it fades and blends in with the outer edges of suburbia. It’s a Japanese restaurant (obviously implied by its name) owned by this _ancient_ Thai-Indonesian woman whom Renjun _swears_ he hears speak French to her white husband. It’s a mix of ornately and traditionally decorated, and Renjun feels at home here. He comes so often that he gets free _pisang goreng_ after every meal for dessert. Renjun guesses the owner prefers plantains over bananas, because she only ever serves the plantain version, lightly battered and fried, drizzled with sweet honey and a sprinkle of powdered sugar. Renjun thinks he’d eat them everyday if he weren’t so wary of getting a cavity.

He doesn’t go _everyday_ , only on days he has work and gets off before the restaurant closes at nine. And days he can’t make it to Fuji San, he eats random things from work (most common meal on breaks being beef jerky and a random box of cookies from the cookie aisle with an Orange Fanta). Renjun tried to be conscientious of his diet his first semester, but as the months went on and life got progressively harder, he realized that this was his life now and that this way of living was a lot easier than anything else. Cooking is hard and time consuming, and the cafeteria is usually closed when he gets off work. And his roommate Jaemin is as incapable of cooking as him, so neither do it. 

And with living this life comes with cheap spending. After about a month of ordering a legitimate meal from the restaurant, Renjun realize he _cannot_ afford that. So now he only eats sushi (a rainbow roll, more specifically) and _pisang goreng_ almost every damn day of the week. He doesn’t ever have enough time to eat in the restaurant, so he usually brings two rolls home to eat in his dorm room.

And today is no different.

“I’m here,” Renjun announces, opening the door to his and Jaemin’s dorm. A chorus of _hi_ comes from the three people (two of whom don’t live here) sprawled on the floor and on Jaemin’s bed. 

Jaemin is sitting cross legged on his mattress, glasses at the tip of his nose, with Donghyuck laying behind him facing the television, PlayStation controller in his hands, head on Jaemin’s (very flat) pillow. Jeno is sitting on the floor, knees up, with the second controller. Renjun doesn’t know what they’re playing. He doesn’t care, honestly.

“Where’s Mark?” Renjun asks, surprised that everyone is here _but_ him.

“He’s probably flirting with that part time caf worker,” Donghyuck says absently, eyes and hands trained on the game. “Forgot his name. He’s a student. Uh, works at Whole Foods.” 

“Oh, Ten!” Jeno says from the floor. “He’s nice. He’s always working when I go in there.” How Jeno affords Whole Foods is beyond Renjun.

“Ah, I see,” Renjun replies with a laugh and sets the plastic bag with his to-go boxes on his bed before sitting on it himself.

“Wonder what he expects to get out that,” Jaemin says while staring into his phone (probably scrolling twitter), glare from the screen shining off his glasses. 

“A date, probably,” Jeno replies. There’s a brief silence before everyone snorts a laugh.

Renjun removes the to-go box and the pack of chopsticks from the bag, but before he can even finish, Jaemin speaks up.

“Renjun,” he says assertively. “ _Again?_ ” He puts his phone down for emphasis.

“What?! It’s cheap, and I’m tired!” Renjun defends himself. Everyone here eats terribly! Except Jeno! Let Renjun live!

“That can’t be good for you to eat like this so much,” Jaemin argues.

“Agree,” Donghyuck says, again very absently. 

“Okay, when did you two turn into Mark?” Renjun asks, rolling his eyes. “It’s _fine_. At least I’m not eating processed mystery pork regularly.” Renjun stares dead at Donghyuck, and then he turns to Jaemin. “Or protein bars and cold, uncooked _hot dogs_!” Renjun’s voice rises in tone at “hot dogs.” 

“Hey!” Jaemin shouts. “I only ate it uncooked _once_! And it was out of desperation!” 

“None of you can say anything!” Renjun yells, ignoring Jaemin.

“You’re gonna get mercury poisoning, dude,” Donghyuck tells him calmly from Jaemin’s pillow.

“What.”

Jeno pauses the game and turns to Renjun. “Mercury poisoning?” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing. “Renjun, don’t tell me you don’t know what that is. How old are you? Dude…” 

Jaemin leans back against Donghyuck’s stomach, legs still crossed, returning to look at his phone. “Fish has mercury in it. And that can, like, build up in your system if you keep eating it. Especially raw, I think.”

“Are you saying I’m going to die?!” Renjun croaks. “Don’t mess with me. You’re kidding.” This is his _easiest_ option. This isn’t fair.

“I mean, it’s usually in extreme cases, I guess… But you really are supposed to only eat sushi one or two times a month. And consuming fish raw like that so much could upset your stomach. You could get food poisoning, too.”

“Oh, my God,” Renjun says quietly. “Why didn’t any of you tell me sooner?”

Everyone shrugs.

“God, you guys are the worst.”

“Are you going to eat that?” Jaemin suddenly asks him.

“Well, not anymore,” Renjun pouts.

“Can I have it?”

Renjun sighs loudly and plops backwards onto his bed. “Eating is hard.”

“Well, can I have it or not?!”

  
  
  
  


**Jeno**

“Ugh, _why_ did I let you drag me here,” Donghyuck whines, trailing behind Jeno.

They’re at Whole Foods today. Jeno “fucking lives here” according to Donghyuck, but Jeno guesses he can’t really argue that. He does come here a lot, but it fits his lifestyle _very_ well. He grew up in a very clean-eating household. And even if it’s expensive, Jeno won’t let that or the difficulties of college and newfound adult life stop him from that clean-eating he’s used to. Of course he’d _never_ judge his friends for eating what they do, but Jeno can’t _personally_ eat that way. His house wasn’t even vegan or vegetarian, but since starting college Jeno decided to make the switch to veganism. It’s hard and expensive, but he feels like it’s extremely rewarding. (“ _I bet you shit so healthily, dude._ ”)

It’s a really nice grocery store, and it definitely appeals to the Very White and Upper Middle class, but Jeno _loves_ it. And it has the most unique, weirdest, and freshest stuff you can’t find to eat at other places. It’s fun to come and look around for strange things to eat and make, and the staff is always pretty nice. 

“Stop acting like I held you at gunpoint to come to damn Whole Foods,” Jeno rebuts. As if Donghyuck doesn’t _regularly_ come to Whole Foods with him. _Please._ Jeno rolls his eyes at the thought. Jaemin usually tags along with them, but he has class at this time.

“Whatever, whatever. What are we getting?” Donghyuck asks, picking up a bar of handmade soap curiously to sniff it.

Jeno takes the soap from Donghyuck and sets it back on the wooden table. “I don’t know. I just felt like browsing.”

“ _Ugh._ ”

Jeno rolls his eyes and pulls Donghyuck to the produce by his jacket sleeve.

“Hey, what’s your favorite fruit?” Donghyuck asks Jeno after some time standing on the wooden floor of the produce section. Jeno is on the other side of the display across from Donghyuck.

“Uh, strawberries, probably,” Jeno tells him, looking intently at the bunches of grapes in the display.

“That’s surprising,” Donghyuck tells him. “Thought you’d like something freaky. Like durians or tamarind or something.”

“Did you google ‘weird fruit’ to learn those?”

“No, when I google ‘weird fruit’ your Facebook comes up.”

“Hey, fuck you.”

“OMG, Jeno just said the ‘F-word’!” Donghyuck gasps mockingly.

Jeno rolls his eyes ( _again_ ). “I seriously can’t take you anywhere.”

“Then stop taking me places.”

“If I didn’t take you to Whole Foods, who would buy you things to cook for you out of the kindness of his heart?”

Donghyuck sighs. He knows Jeno is right.

“What about you?” Jeno asks.

“What?”

“Your favorite fruit.”

“Bananas, probably.”

“That’s very… boring.”

“Okay, Mr. I Come to Whole Foods For Fun.” 

Jeno ignores Donghyuck and is silent for a second, brain whirring, and his eyes light up. Strawberry and banana go well together, he thinks. That’s, like, the ultimate (boring) fruit combo. “I could make us strawberry banana pancakes.”

“Like, today?”

“Why not?”

Donghyuck shrugs. “Alright.”

”Do you think Nana likes pancakes? I can’t remember,” Jeno asks Donghyuck as he moves towards the plastic containers of strawberries.

“Well, he’s gonna have to suck it up if he wants a decent meal for once,” Donghyuck tells him as he puts the bananas into the basket (albeit a little roughly).

“Maybe you should take your own advice,” Jeno replies, eyes crinkling at the corners from smiling. Donghyuck rolls his eyes, but he’s holding back a smile anyway.

  
  
  


Jeno spent an incredibly long time picking out strawberries (while Donghyuck only grabbed the first bunch of bananas he saw) before searching for the aisle they needed. They find the baking aisle eventually, pancake mix specifically at the very end of it. Everything is over three dollars, gluten free, or organic, and Donghyuck just is _not_ having it.

“God, dude, it’s going to taste dry and _healthy_.” Donghyuck is just a complaining machine today. “And it’s all expensive. Man, we could’ve gone to Wal-Mart and bought a regular package half the price of this Very Little package,” he explains, turning the smallest pancake mix package over in his hands. “I want my genetically modified trans fats, bitch.” 

“I really don’t want to drive all the way to Wal-Mart to spend a two dollar difference,” Jeno tells him, taking the mix from Donghyuck and putting it in the hand basket. 

“Whatever, it’s your money, I guess.”

“That’s right. Now where is the syrup…”

  
  
  


They get lost trying to find the syrup, searching for a good seven minutes until they come back the aisle they were on originally and find it on the opposite end. Once again, Donghyuck complains about things being extremely expensive and sugar free, but they find _something_ he likes. Jeno doesn’t understand why he puts up with it or complies at all. Okay, maybe he does understand. But whatever.

”I guess we’re done,” Jeno announces, scanning the hand basket one last time just in case he missed anything.

“Oh, dude, the lines are so long today,” Donghyuck grumbles. And he’s right. It’s Sunday after 12 p.m., so _everyone_ within a five mile radius is doing their After Church Grocery Shopping. Ugh, maybe Jeno _should_ have calculated this better.

But a familiar voice calls Jeno’s name, and he turns his head quickly to that direction. It’s Ten. Working today at the fifteen-items-or-less register, and it’s just magically opened. Lucky. Jeno grabs an oblivious Donghyuck, clearly not paying attention, by his wrist to pull him to the register, and Jeno waves at Ten as he does so.

“Good to see you today!” Ten says to Jeno brightly. His smile is so pretty and welcoming that Jeno can’t help but return one just as big. Jeno _does_ understand why Mark goes to the caf unnecessarily just to see Ten. Still doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell with him, though. That’s just Jeno’s opinion.

“Hey, you too!” Jeno replies, setting his items on the counter. Ten takes the basket and begins bagging them.

“You two come in here together a lot,” Ten says suddenly, hint of something in his voice Jeno can’t pick up.

“Yeah, someone has to feed him something homemade every once in awhile,” Jeno tells Ten, pointing his thumb at Donghyuck. After Ten is finished putting things into the paper bag, he tells him the total. Donghyuck is, of course, appalled.

“What?! Jeno, I’ll help pay,” Donghyuck says a little panicked, digging in his jacket pocket for his wallet.

“No, it’s okay. I got you. My treat,” Jeno says, handing the bills to Ten.

“How long have you two been together?” Ten asks him as he returns Jeno’s change.

Donghyuck looks at Jeno and barks out the loudest laugh, taking the paper bag off the counter. Jeno looks mortified, and Ten doesn’t seem at all humiliated by Donghyuck laughing at him, smirk on his face.

“Oh, I can’t wait to tell Jaemin this,” Donghyuck says, walking away from the counter. Ten is still smiling, and it’s so _knowing_ , but Jeno isn’t sure what he even _knows_.

  
  
  
  


**Jaemin**

“Jaemin, wake up,” Mark says loudly, shaking Jaemin’s shoulder. Jaemin doesn’t want to open his eyes. His bed is comfortably warm, soft covers bunched up around his face. He doesn’t need to get up. Not yet. It’s still early. And in his sleep influenced mind, it isn’t at all weird to him that Mark is in his dorm room this early, shaking him awake. Where is Renjun, though? Jaemin is too tired to think about it.

“It’s eight o’clock.” Mark’s voice is louder this time.

Jaemin’s eyes fly open. “What?!” Jaemin sits up quickly, hair probably a wild mess, and checks his phone. It reads 8:04. “Oh, god. I have an advising appointment in five minutes. I can’t make it to the Engineering Hall in five minutes!” 

“Jaemin, Jaemin, woah, slow down,” Mark tells him calmly as Jaemin throws his legs over the side of the bed. “It’s eight at _night_.”

Jaemin freezes, and his face falls. And common sense returns to him. “You’re telling me you broke into my dorm room to wake me up for no good reason?”

“I didn’t break in! Renjun opened the door for me earlier! He left with Jeno, though,” Mark explains. 

“You’re telling me you broke into my dorm room to watch me sleep and then wake me up for no good reason?”

Mark rolls his eyes and makes an annoyed snort. “Why are you such a brat when you wake up?”

Jaemin falls back into his bed and lets his head hit the pillow, pulling the covers back up to his face. “You’re right. You’re right,” Jaemin says. Maybe guiltily. “I’m sorry.” Jaemin rolls over, the covers wrapping him up as he does so.

Mark sighs. “What are you doing?” He sounds defeated.

“I made room for you,” Jaemin explains, words muffled from his blanket cocoon. 

Mark does smile at that (though he tries to hide it). “Jaemin, we’re not sleeping.”

“Ugh, Mark it’s eight o’clock at night during Dead Week.” Jaemin doesn’t want to do anything. There’s no class. He’s already studied enough for his upcoming finals next week. He’s a good student! He doesn’t deserve this.

“We’re going to get food. Renjun told me you hadn’t gotten out of bed all day. What time did you go to sleep last night?” Mark begins pulling Jaemin’s body towards the edge of the bed to unwrap him from the covers, and Jaemin is eventually laying with his face smushed in his pillow.

“Maybe seven a.m.?” Jaemin says into the fabric. “And who’s ‘we’?” 

“You and me, of course,” Mark says. Always too nicely. Jaemin assumes Renjun is eating with Jeno, then. Donghyuck is doing…. God know’s what probably.

“ _Okay_ ,” Jaemin sighs. But it sounds more like _okaaaaaaaay_. He hasn’t eaten since yesterday, and he’s pretty sure Renjun ate the last cup noodle. His only thing to eat until he was forced to finally buy “groceries.” Jaemin has been living off ramen noodles and granola for a month, he thinks. He was so good at first with keeping their mini fridge stocked with healthy things to snack on. He really was. But, like everyone else, he has really given up. Going to eat with Mark isn’t bad. He needs to get out of his room anyway.

“Put on some clothes and we’ll go to the caf. It’s open late because of Dead Week,” Mark says, walking to Renjun’s bed to sit on it while Jaemin does whatever it is he needs to do. But that doesn’t last long.

“I’m ready,” Jaemin announces twenty seconds later. All he’s done is put on shoes and a beanie to cover his bedhead. Mark gives him a once over, eyebrows knit together. Jaemin only smiles at him before grabbing his dorm key off the air conditioning unit.

  
  
  


Jaemin is actually surprised at how many people are here. Like, he really _shouldn’t_ be. But university is still a new thing for him (and everyone else in his friend group), and the amount of people in this cafeteria at 8:15 on a Tuesday night is _shocking_. Last semester he did not once come to the cafeteria after four p.m, not even during Dead Week. Why the hell are there so many people here? _Studying_ in this kind of atmosphere? Jaemin thinks he’d lose his mind.

But Jaemin and Mark are here to eat, not study. 

Mark and Jaemin hand their student I.D.s to the woman working at the entrance, and they make their way to plate/utensil station to get their trays. Jaemin immediately turns to the center of the food corner where the dispensers are before Mark pulls him by the back of his shirt collar.

“Real food, Jaemin. Not frozen yogurt,” Mark asserts. 

Jaemin puffs out an annoyed grunt. “Fine.”

  
  
  


After an unbelievably long ten minutes in line, Jaemin and Mark scour the floor for an empty table. There’s so many people, and at this point Jaemin would settle for those annoyingly tall tables meant for two chairs (but only one person can actually sit comfortably there). But there’s a booth being cleared of students way in the back, and Jaemin thanks God.

“There’s one back there,” Jaemin says to Mark, nudging him in the arm with his elbow.

“Sweet. We’re lucky tonight,” Mark singsongs. Jaemin smiles. But only a little.

The booth seats are still warm from the previous people’s body heat and crumbs and wet spots littered on the table top, and it’s almost gross, but a booth is a booth. Jaemin will take it. As soon as he sets his tray on the table and plops himself into the booth with Mark on the other side Jaemin presses his forehead into the (cleanest part) of the table.

“You that tired, bro?” Mark asks, voice soft. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t have dragged you out here,” he says sheepishly. Ah, now Jaemin feels bad.

“No, it’s okay. Really. I needed to eat.” Jaemin pauses. “Real food,” he then adds. “Sorry I’ve been a pain in the ass. That time of the semester, I guess.”

“Yeah, who knew it’d be this hard?” Mark laughs, almost bitterly, spearing his fork into a cherry tomato.

Jaemin pushes himself up and grabs his own plasticware. “This is the first real meal you’ve eaten in two months, isn’t it, Mark?”

Mark’s eyes widen. “Uh, fuck.” He’s quiet for a second. “Yeah,” he laughs. “God, we all really suck at this.”

Jaemin laughs out loud at that. A real laugh. “Yeah.”

“You haven’t smiled that big in a while,” Mark comments.

Jaemin cuts the edge of his fork into his undercooked burrito. He’s sure Donghyuck would call him a heathen for it. “I just realized lately how shitty everything is with school and money to the point I literally can’t eat actual food? God, Mark, how are we living without our parents cooking for us? I miss looking in the fridge and there actually being too much in it to make a decision. Now, it’s, like--”

“Now it’s like ‘Should I eat this one piece of bologna or this entire jar of olives?’” Mark adds.

“God, yeah!” Jaemin exclaims, leaning back against the booth. 

“But, yeah, dude. You shouldn't be sleeping too much. It’s not a good sign.” Mark furrows his brows, and Jaemin feels bad for how worried Mark looks.

“I get you’re looking out for me as someone older,” Jaemin begins, shoveling two big pieces of burrito into his mouth. “But--”

“Nah, dude. I’m looking out for you as someone who loves you.”

“Mark, I’m gonna cry,” Jaemin says, mouthful of burrito, voice legitimately about to break. None of them deserve Mark.

  
  
  
  


**Mark**

It’s finals week, and Mark lives at the university library from 2 p.m. to 2 a.m. almost everyday. The fourth floor is his favorite floor, but only the older half of it, the side that hasn’t been remodeled and still looks freshly 1963. There are signs printed on white copy paper saying “Quiet Talking Zone!” for groups, but there’s so many people here that the regular hushed whispers have turned into an an obnoxious buzz that drives Mark insane and overstimulates him. He can’t focus and has switched amongst all ten tabs in his Internet browser multiple times in the last thirty minutes. It’s 8 p.m., and Mark thinks his brain will leak out of his ears if he doesn’t leave soon.

Mark would not dare fucking admit it to his friends, but he’s been living on protein boosted Smoothie King smoothies, pseudoephedrine highs, and McDonald's for a week straight. Smoothie King for the health, over the counter sinus medication stimulated highs for the focus, McDonald’s for the sanity. He’s supposed to be the nagging friend making sure everyone is eating their vegetables! But in actuality, Mark can’t remember the last time he ate anything green that wasn’t artificially colored.

Is that healthy? Fuck no. Is it working? Well, yeah. Yeah, it _kinda_ is. Like, for now, anyway.

Mark hasn’t eaten today, and Smoothie King closes in one hour, so he might as well get his last pathetic smoothie fix in before he has to switch over to his Sudafed Induced High at McDonald’s for the rest of the night. His rou-fucking-tine, apparently. 

Smoothie King is a good twenty minute walk from the library, and Mark pushed all thoughts of ‘is it worth walking there and back for a fucking Caribbean Way’ six days ago. Apparently he’s decided subconsciously it’s worth it. So after taking two Sudafed on the way there, he is once again buzzed ordering from the same girl behind the counter.

( _“You seriously went to Wal-Greens and bought three boxes of Sudafed? No one said anything to you?” Mark had asked Donghyuck two weeks ago._

_“Nah, Jaehyun gave them to me.”_

_“Who’s Jaehyun?”_

_“Don’t worry about it,” Donghyuck said, slinging his arm around Mark’s neck._ ) 

“Forty ounce Caribbean Way, please,” Mark says calmly, eyes permanently wide it feels like. He feels like he can hear the clock on the wall tick before it even happens. 

“Would you like a boost added to that, sir?” the cashier, Seungwan, asks him.

“Yeah, can I get a protein boost added?” 

“Kid, are you okay? You come in here everyday and order the same thing…” she says, worried.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Mark says too loudly, handing her the exact change. She sighs and takes it from him. He knows she’s judging him, or worried about him, but Mark seriously feels like he has the ability to write both his final papers in one sitting tonight after this.

She hands him his change, and three minutes later he walks to McDonald's on the corner to write his fucking wrists off.

  
  
  


“ _Hey, Renjun…_ ” Yerim says, her voice coming out quietly from the speaker of Renjun’s cellphone.

“Hey, Yerim, what’s up? Are you okay? Why’re you calling so late?” Renjun asks quickly into his own phone, voice still sleepy. It’s 1 a.m., and Renjun has only been asleep for fifty minutes on Jeno’s floor.

“ _Your friend Mark_ ,” she explains slowly, hint of a smile in her voice, “ _uh, he’s knocked out at one of the tables. My boss said to wake him up, but I told her I knew his friends, so can you please come get him?_ ”

Renjun sighs and digs his fingers into his eyelids. “Yeah.” He pauses. “Yeah, that’s fine.” 

“ _Thanks! See you in a bit!_ ” 

The call ends, and Renjun digs his toes into Jeno’s leg. 

“What is it?” Jeno says groggily, an uncomfortably thick anthropology textbook supporting his head. “Study break still has three more minutes left.” 

“Mark fell asleep at McDonald’s _again_ ,” Renjun explains. “We have to go get him.”

“ _God_ ,” Jeno groans, flopping onto his back. “Let’s round up the boys, then.”

  
  
  


All four of them, Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Jaemin, walk through the side door of the fast food restaurant a twenty minutes after 1 a.m., and Yerim waves when she sees them.

“God, look at him,” Donghyuck says, gesturing towards Mark. His table is littered with with three McDouble wrappers and an empty box of chicken nuggets. The ice in Mark’s cup has completely melted, by the looks of it, and the condensation has pooled at the bottom of the cup and stained Mark’s textbook. “Pathetic.” Donghyuck shakes his head.

“You fell asleep in our tub with your clothes on two days ago,” Jaemin reminds Donghyuck.

“Now’s not the time, Jaemin! Look at Mark! He’s helpless! He needs us!” Donghyuck exclaims, feigning worry. 

“Can you two stop for three seconds?” Renjun huffs and walks up to Mark, shaking him gently.

“Wait!” Donghyuck yells. “Not until I get a picture first, dude,” Donghyuck tells him.

Renjun looks at Jeno, looking for _one_ of them to make a decision. Jeno closes his eyes.

“Okay, _one_ picture,” Jeno says to him. “But only one.”

”Yes!” Donghyuck pumps his fist, and Jaemin rolls his eyes as he walks towards Mark.

“Hey, Yerim!” Jeno calls to her. “Can you take this for us?” he asks, everyone starting to gather around Mark and assuming a poses.

Yerim rolls her eyes but walks from behind the counter anyway. “Fine, fine. You owe me, though.”

**Author's Note:**

> im so sorry for everything
> 
> comments and kudos are really appreciated even though i know this was rly a mess T____T ive never written so many different POVs in one fic before and it was so hard to balance everyone out T___T this was harder than i thought it was going to be gkjfgkj.... but im finally done after two non stop writing sessions so hooray its over the evil is defeated
> 
> im really sorry for my lazy style with this :( i know i couldve done better but i just wanted to churn this out so i could get back in the writing mood and work on my more serious, more stylistic pieces ToT i needed something fun~ fall semester starts soon~ whos ready. Not fucking me


End file.
